The Small Town with a Big Heart

While my young husband was home, fighting a consuming battle with stomach cancer, miracles occurred, in the form of chili.  A married man, father of two, self-employed, now not working; he would witness something amazing, a marvel would occur; the chili was soon to arrive.

Jake, always one to manicure our lawn and present a nicely kept home, had purchased paint for the exterior.  The summer and our pending paint job awaited him.  Sadly, cancer pounced in on him and the plans of vacation, painting, and summer with his two boys were plans pushed to the side. His new job was fighting the invading disease.

Our town, the nation’s oldest city, St. Augustine, Florida, began to surround us with support and care. Finances were being supplied, prayers were offered, and care packages arrived daily.  Jake’s attention was to be given to renewing his health.

Fall passed, its days filled with chemotherapy and radiation treatments. Strength ebbed and waned as Jake envisioned himself well, back to work and returning his focus to our family. His body was not agreeing and the cancer continued to spread to other organs of his weakened frame.

Rrrrrrrring!  The phone called arrived on a February morning announcing that chili was on its way.  Jake loved our friend’s chili, but regretfully would not be able to enjoy its thick, bubbling brew, as he was tube fed due to his cancer. He still anticipated the arrival of friends and their willingness to bring in a big vessel of the delicious aroma that would make his senses smile.

The chili arrived with our friends in tow. Hm, hm!  We were pleasantly surprised to see the big pot of chili simmering on our stove and the entire family of friends supposedly coming for a visit. Imagine our astonishment to see, husband, wife, two daughters, son, son-in-law to be and a truck load of paraphernalia, all paint supplies unload themselves in our front yard.

To our shock, the scraping began. Our chili suppliers had come armed with paint, scrapers, brushes, ladders and every conceivable item necessary to paint the entire exterior of our home.  Their stamina was reinforced with chili-breaks. From morning to late evening, the paint crew worked tirelessly to scrape, paint, adorn shutters with a new vibrant color, trim tiny crevices and create a new visage that any property holder would be proud to call home.

As the vat of chunky chili steamed to near emptiness, the bowls clattered in our sink, the tired painters cleaned their brushes, and we watched in sheer wonderment.  Listening to the sound of tools being reassigned to their places in the truck, we were crying from the magnitude of the miracle.  What began as an offer of a meal, turn out to be chili to go.  The miracle warmed us from inside out, just as the chili warmed our dear friends from inside out. We were awed by their unselfish kindness to brighten our day and embellish our home.  The decoration was truly secondary to the compassion that displayed itself from the kettle of bubbling chili to the vastness of kindheartedness that presented us with a miracle. Our beautifully painted home enveloped us as our battle within continued. Jake’s tummy did not feel the warmth of chili, but his heart was warmed with gratitude; and his tears were those of appreciation.